


Grind

by Enchantable



Category: Pacific Rim (2013)
Genre: Angst, Dirty Dancing, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-17
Updated: 2013-08-17
Packaged: 2017-12-23 18:59:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/929955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enchantable/pseuds/Enchantable
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Without a drift, Raleigh struggles to connect.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Grind

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Maleigh Dirty Dancing

Three am on a tuesday saw Raleigh Becket leaning against a bar nursing a glass of fizzy water cut with lime and wishing he was anywhere else. 

They were at the after party of some after party for a gala. He’d been wearing his tux since six in the afternoon and was more than ready to rip the damn thing off. The party had started out well enough, even if the rich and powerful he was supposed to be charming made his skin crawl just a little. They were, at least, polite. But as the party had gone on, they had tapered off, replaced with people so young and vibrant he felt like he was sixty instead of twenty six. 

Curling his fingers around the cool glass he cranes his neck for a flash of silver. 

Easier said than done in the crowd. He is there on the outskirts, mostly to add fuel to the fire. Not because he wants to be, but because if it isn’t him out there then it’d be Herc. Herc needs to mourn, not be paraded about like there is even a speck of glory to losing a child. Raleigh’s been to the rodeo before and he isn’t reveling in going through it a second time. Frowning at the bubbles he tries to think back to what made it so fun the first time. 

Yancy. 

Adrenaline, being a hero but mostly Yancy. They were both the big damn heroes and for all his advice about not being cocky, Yancy was cocky as shit when it came to reporters or pretty girls. They’d felt young and invincible untouchable even if the other pilots kept dying. A shiver works it’s way through Raleigh’s spine as he thinks of the notes of his brother’s head, the crashing symphony that roared deafeningly and then was silent. A party of him still doesn’t understand how something so loud can be so silent. 

Silent, still. 

His fingers tighten on the glass except it isn’t a glass it’s the handle of a rake and the only sounds are the whisper of trees and the grate of sand on wood. He’s dragging a pattern around rocks that are taller than him. This is an important job, he has to do it properly and his tongue pokes out of his lips as he focuses on getting the lines just right. 

Raleigh turns and leans against the bar, setting his glass down just in time before his hand opens reflexively. He presses his palms to the cool surface and inhales the tang of fake smoke and sweat. The thing about drifting with Yancy was that their memories were similar. They’d been think as thieves their entire lives. His memories were familiar. Mako had grown up a world away, in a culture Raleigh doesn’t understand even if in corners of his head it’s familiar now. 

He misses her head in his. 

It’s like he was wandering for years in a desert and someone gave him a drink only to pull it away before he was ready to stop. Though Raleigh doesn’t think he would ever be ready. His eyes turn and now it’s easy as hell to see her. She’s dressed in a flimsy, clingy creation of pure silver that makes her hair shine. The media is enamored with her, she’s on more magazine covers than he knew existed. Raleigh doesn’t begrudge her getting swept away in the thrill of it all, he just wishes that there were some lessons you didn’t have to learn on your own. 

Her eyes catch his and he offers a smile and a raise of his hand before the crowd swallows her up again.

He takes a sip of the water and wonders why he still feels so thirsty. 

It isn’t until he hears her feet approaching that he starts to get it. Her feet slap the floor in time with his heartbeat, though it’s a miracle he hears them over the club bass. He turns his head as she approaches. She’s been scrubbed up and painted china doll perfect. She’s there for the same reasons he is, but he looks at the rounded shape of her nails and the glossed swell of her lip and wishes that they could just be back in the Kwoon with their hanbos. 

"You’re sulking," she scolds him. 

"I’m resting," he says, his body angling towards hers. 

"You’re rested enough," she says and her hand finds his wrist. 

He opens his mouth to protest but she tugs him and he can’t say no. She pulls him out onto the dance floor and the crowd seems to swallow them whole. He fights down the old urge to look for escapes, to size up opponents when they come close. Mako’s smile slips as she steps close to him. Her hips sway to the music as he stands there like an idiot. She raises her eyebrows and he gives a faint smile, holding up his hands. He doesn’t dance, not very well, not anymore. 

She rolls her own and before he can move she threads their fingers together. She moves to the music, the flashing lights turning her silver dress into a rainbow riot of colors. He swallows back something that tightens in his throat because it’s beautiful. Beautiful and impersonal because she’s dancing alone and they’re supposed to be together but they’ll never dance like they should again because Gipsy’s nothing but sparks. 

He doesn’t realize his eyes have gone blank until her hands turn in his as she backs up until she’s in front of him. She guides his hands down, settling them on her hips. She pushes into his body until they’re fitted perfectly together. The song drops and then picks up into something that’s more melodic. Still full of bass that seems to echo in his bones, but his ears pick up a melody. 

Or maybe that’s just Mako. 

She presses her body back and up, rolling her hips against him. His fingers press into the beads of her dress, feeling below that to the way her muscles contract and release. She does it again and his hips move, catching hers at the very end. His knees bend as he brings his body closer to hers. She leads at first but he catches quickly, his hands moving from where she placed them to where they’re supposed to be. 

They flow together on the dance floor, music pounding through them both. Neither guides and neither follows, they meet and engage with their bodies as they move together. The music pulls through them both. As they move though, Raleigh can swear he hears the beat of the song Mako had stuck in her head the first time they drifted. 

His hand brushes up slightly against her side and her body rolls with it, encouraging it higher. He doesn’t think about the signals she gives him, he doesn’t chase the new R.A.B.I.T.s. He lets his mind go blank and his body flow with hers. He closes his eyes and brings his face closer to hers, feeling her hair brush against his cheek. She gasps softly, pressing her face to his as one of her fingers reaches up and tangles in his hair. 

Raleigh’s positively drowning in her. 

She’s pressed against him and the loudest thing he can hear is the pound of her heart against his hand and through his chest. The song changes and her body moves against his, guiding them to the tempo of the music. They move together with the lasers bright against their eyes and the beat pounding though their bodies. They move together seamlessly, guided by the music and each other as their.

The crowd seems to fall away around them and it’s like they’re the only two people in the world. Nothing matters but the press of their bodies and keeping her as close as he can. He wants to be closer. He knows she wants the same. Her back arches and she leans her head back against his shoulder. He keeps his eyes closed, his focus entirely on them. They keep moving and he thinks they could keep moving like this forever. 

"Mako," he exhales against her skin. 

She rolls her head against her shoulder, their hips moving together. He watches the dark half moons of her lashes against her pale skin. His mouth feels dry in an entirely different way as their bodies move and he watches the emotions flit across her face. He closes his own and focuses just on them. 

It isn't drifting. 

But he'll take what he can get.


End file.
